once you fail at the
only thing you thought you were good at
you start to lose hope
you lose the passion
that distracted you from
the depression you try to
suppress day after day
and if you don't find
a new hobby your
hand will find a new one
for you.
because open auditions are
going out to anything with
a sharp edge and won't mind
co-workering with my wrist.
so i do hope for a passion
because my heart,
head,
and soul can't take anymore
abuse. this idle hands need to be
handed a new passion.
YOU ARE READING
lowercase • poetry
Poetrya collection of poems i made throughout my teenage years and every moment i felt with the boy i thought i once gave my heart to. • • • • previously known as blurry eyes
